


Tokens of His Affection

by fuzzytomato



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzytomato/pseuds/fuzzytomato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur doesn't say "I love you" much....Written for the kink_me prompt: Arthur/Merlin, small tokens of affection. Sometimes it's just about the little things, stroking of hair, intertwined fingers, kisses to palms and wrists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tokens of His Affection

Title: Tokens of His Affection  
Fandom: Merlin  
Word Count: 1325  
Beta: none  
Summary: Arthur doesn't say "I love you" much....Written for the kink_me prompt: Arthur/Merlin, small tokens of affection. Sometimes it's just about the little things, stroking of hair, intertwined fingers, kisses to palms and wrists.  
[Original Post Here](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/10136.html?thread=7067288#t7067288)

Arthur doesn’t say “I love you” much. When he does, it is usually uttered in the dark, deep quiet of night, when crisp sheets lay against overheated skin, a breathy prayer whispered into Merlin’s neck when Merlin is sated, on the edge of sleep, a lullaby that follows him into his dreams. Other times, he tugs Merlin into his arms, and Merlin will flail a bit, off balance, crash into Arthur’s chest and Arthur will laugh, loud and boyish, and with a crooked smile ruffle Merlin’s hair and it will fall from his grinning lips, without pretense, without demands.

But other times, in public, around friends, Arthur is clandestine, tight-lipped and prying endearments from him is like trying to get blood from a stone.

It used to bother Merlin, when their relationship was young and he was insecure, blinded by Arthur’s brilliance and wondering what he had to offer, but now, entering their fourth year of a committed relationship, Merlin doesn’t mind, because he knows Arthur shows him in other, nonconventional ways.

Merlin is well-known for his obliviousness (it took him nearly two months to realize that Arthur was actually asking him out on a date each time he had asked Merlin out for coffee. Merlin had declined because he didn’t like coffee. It was a good thing Arthur is persistent), so it wasn’t until Gwen had cornered him at one of the Pendragons’ lavish office parties that he finally got it.

“You are so lucky,” she had sighed over her glass of champagne.

“I am,” he agreed. “Why exactly?”

“Arthur. He is completely in love with you.”

“Oh…he is?”

She had looked at him, askance, and a little on the exasperated side. “You don’t know?”

Merlin shrugged.

“Merlin, he has been watching you the whole time. His eyes haven’t left you since you walked in here.”

He looked up then, scanned the crowd and found Arthur surrounded by suit clad men all clambering for a piece of his attention but Arthur was staring at Merlin, blue eyes soft and disappointed.

“Oh, that. He’s just making sure I don’t drink too much. He doesn’t want a repeat of last time.”

Gwen giggled. “No one wants that. But I don’t think that’s all there is.”

Merlin smiled and raised his glass of water in Arthur’s direction to show he was not imbibing as they had agreed. Arthur’s lips twitched in a half smile.

“You think so?” Merlin asked, not really convinced.

She nodded in reply as she took another sip of champagne.

Much later that evening, as Arthur peeled expensive cloth down Merlin’s pale limbs, and Arthur’s hands were splayed across his ribs, and Arthur’s lips were sucking bruises into his collarbone and Merlin was almost lost to the headiness of the moment, Arthur murmured something into Merlin’s skin.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Arthur growled, “that I was disappointed we didn’t get to spend much time together tonight. You were across the room the whole time and I couldn’t get away.”

“We’re spending time together now,” Merlin offered, cheekily as they stumbled to the bed.

Then much, much later as Arthur gently snored beside him, Merlin still staring at the ceiling in stupid bliss, Gwen’s words came back to him and it finally registered. Arthur Pendragon _loved_ him and he smiled, so wide his cheeks hurt, and then he burrowed into Arthur’s embrace and fell asleep happy.

After that point, Merlin began to keep a quiet catalogue. When Gwen met Lance and they started dating and were spouting love sonnets at each other _all the time_ even at the pub, Arthur would simply lay his arm across Merlin’s shoulders, and tuck Merlin along his side in the booth and make a face like a wounded bear every time they started mooning at each other in iambic pentameter. They would get home in the evening, and Arthur would start his inevitable rant about Merlin’s insane friends, and Merlin would have to politely remind him that they were his friends as well.

“Friends or no, they are completely annoying.”

“They’re in love,” Merlin said simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yes, but just because two people are in love doesn’t mean they have to spout nonsense about birds and flowers in rhyming couplets... _constantly_.” Arthur shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the back of a chair before toeing off his shoes. “I mean, I don’t go around remarking how the blue of your eyes matches that of a cloudless sky, now do I?”

Merlin stopped in mid movement from where he had been getting a class of water and turned, a little shocked, before smiling, large, mischievous.

“Are you saying you love me, Arthur Pendragon?” he asked, batting his eyelashes.

Arthur scoffed but then, almost shyly asked, “And what if I am?”

“Then I have only one answer. Arthur,” he said, seriously, “your hair is like spun gold.”

“Why you insolent…” Arthur lunged and Merlin barely danced out of his reach.

“And your skin is kissed by the sun,” he said laughing as Arthur chased him down the hall.

Together, rolling around the bed, laughing and kissing, giggles giving way to gasps and tickles turning into caresses, and Arthur mouthing _I love you_ , into the dips and planes of Merlin’s body, Merlin couldn’t help but say it back.

Once Merlin started looking, he saw it _everywhere_ : in the text that Arthur would send mid-day saying how boring his life was because Merlin wasn’t there to spill his coffee, in the two tablets and glass of water on the nightstand when Merlin woke up the morning after a binge, in the tender sweep of his fringe off his forehead when the rain plastered it to his head because he had forgotten his umbrella, in the way Arthur held him and let Merlin’s tears soak his shirt when he heard the news about his best friend, in the way Arthur would clasp his hand and tangle their fingers together while they walked in the park, in the way Arthur would smile, unfettered, eyes crinkled when only Merlin was watching. It was all there. In every action Arthur took and Merlin counted himself lucky that he was the one seeing it.

Merlin was puttering about the kitchen, trying to get something cooked and edible when he heard the door open and close and the unmistakable sound of Arthur coming home. He didn’t look up from his stirring of the noodles but launched into a diatribe anyway.

“Arthur, you’re late. And tonight is game night and Gwen and Lance are going to be here any minute. And you know how Morgana is if we don’t start playing right away when she gets here. And I think she’s bringing that Mordred person again and I swear if he gives me another creepy look…”

Arthur’s wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist, his weight and warmth a comfort on Merlin’s back, his chin resting on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t have stopped and brought you these,” he said, blocking Merlin’s vision of the steaming pot with a beautiful bouquet.

Merlin turned in the cage of Arthur’s arms, the lip of the counter digging into his back, but smiling all the same.

“What’s the occasion?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s only the fifth anniversary of the _first_ time I asked you out for coffee.”

Merlin laughed. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” Arthur responded, pouting, “you turned me down.”

“Well, I have been told that I’m unobservant.”

Arthur leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on Merlin’s lips. “It’s a good thing I’m persistent.”

Merlin hummed in agreement and kissed back, eagerly.

That night, once their guests had left, and they lay twined together in bed, Arthur’s fingers running along Merlin’s spine as he sprawled across Arthur’s chest and Arthur whispered _love you_ into Merlin’s hair as he drifted off to sleep, Merlin kissed Arthur’s salty skin and grinned contentedly, because he already knew.


End file.
